


Tryin' to Find the In-Betweens.

by pearlydewdrop



Series: Punching in a Dream [3]
Category: Derry Girls (TV)
Genre: Adulting is hard, Best Friends, Cousinly Banter, Dorks in Love, Epic Friendship, F/F, F/M, Five Years Later, Found Family, Friends to Lovers, Future Fic, Gen, Girl Power, Growing Up Together, Loosely Inspired by Channel 4's 'The London Irish', Lovable Eejits!, Morally Grey and Chaotic!, Secret Crush, Secret Relationship, Silly, Sisterly Love, Slightly Bonkers, The Derry Girls being the eejits we know and love!, The Derry Girls: Still Sharing Half a Braincell Between Them!, quarter life crisis
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:06:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27040978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pearlydewdrop/pseuds/pearlydewdrop
Summary: It was that place, that funny place between adolescence and adulthood, between friendship and romance...between errors in judgement and a chance to start over and begin again.The Derry Girls were fully functional adults now (or at least, semi-functional!), still joined together at the hip by friendship, loyalty and the chaos of their own creation.Post Canon 2001
Relationships: Clare Devlin/Michelle Mallon, James Maguire/Erin Quinn, The Friendship Between All Five Derry Girls
Series: Punching in a Dream [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2027156
Comments: 18
Kudos: 88





	1. Chapter 1

_London 2001_

Michelle's hands twitched angrily, instinctively balling up into fists.

"Look Buster", she hissed. "It's got nothin' to do with you."

Standing almost a foot over her, Buster Hughes leered. He leered at her! Now, of all times!— _That feckin' bastard! She'd kill him!_

"Then how come you decided to tell me?"

Michelle's tongue clicked impatiently inside her mouth. With every second that passed, the prospect of ending Buster right there on the spot became more and more attractive.

"Just thought I'd bring you up to speed is all."

Every pore oozing disgust, Michelle ignored as her jet black acrylics dug fleshy moons into her palms. One more straw and steam would likely be pouring from her ears...Wile E. Coyote style.

Buster smirked, the corner of his mouth curling upwards into a half, rather pointed, smile. "But how did you know I was the one to bring up to speed? "

Brows pulling together at his insinuation, Michelle snarled.

She'd have surely landed one on him if the rest of the gang weren't on the other side of the wall. Her wolf pack were not ending up on the wrong side of Buster on her watch. _Fuck no!_

"I'm a reasonable person, Buster", Michelle replied, her voice dangerously low. "Fairly reasonable anyway. So I'm givin' you five minutes to shift your sad excuse of an arse outta here before I kick you right in the—"

* * *

Looking just a wee bit green, James let his forehead sink into Erin's shoulder.

"Remind me again. Why _exactly_ did I go out last night?"

Erin snorted, gloating over the fact that for once ( _just this once!)_ it was her and not James who had been the sensible one.

"Michelle and Orla swindled you into it 'cos, unlike some of us, you lot can sit on your laurels today. Jammie feckers..."

James chuckled despite the ringing in his ears.

His nose found it's way into the loose strands that had escaped Erin's neat 'work appropriate' braid.

With what felt like a herd of elephants' feet pounding across his skull, there wasn't much that could make James feel lucky, but sitting here all cuddled up with Erin...well, that came pretty close if he was being honest.

Given the morning that was in it, it took James just a second too long to realise the rather glaring issue _(or rather issues!)_ with what he was thinking...

_Oh Christ!_

He shouldn't be thinking things like that. Of course he shouldn't! Not about one of his best friends anyway.

James chanced a glance up at Erin and found himself at the end of one of her lopsided half smug/half affectionate smiles.

At least, she was attributing his excessive touchy-feelness to his totally wallpapered state...to which, of course, James would readily agree that there was absolutely _NO OTHER EXPLANATION_ for.

"You know what?", Orla mumbled, her voice jolting both James and Erin back to reality.

He glanced up only to find her staring in fixation into her bowl of Coco Pops, looking as though she was contemplating a head dive into the now chocolate milk.

"I river-danced with Michael Flatley last night. Really knows how to move his feet, that fella."

Frowning, James tried to process Orla's bizarre ( _and rather unlikely!_ ) tangent. His brain fell just a little bit short—Erin and alcohol addled as it was.

Staring pointedly across the table at her cousin, Erin scoffed in disbelief. "Catch yerself on, Orla! _The_ Michael Flatley? You weren't dancin' with _the_ Michael Flatley! Was she, James?"

Truthfully, James shrugged...not having the slightest idea! Everything after nine o' clock the night before was, more or less, a total blur. 

"I'm telling you, Erin", Orla insisted. "I won an Irish dancin' competition last night in the pub and Michael Flatley was definitely _definitely_ there. I swear on Toto's grave."

"Toto's not dead, Or—"

Just then, Erin was cut off at the sound of Michelle's bedroom door opening.

James glanced up, catching the eye of the man his cousin had been... _going out with_ (if so straight forward a term could be used for any of Michelle's relationships) for the past few weeks.

"Ladies", Buster greeted with a smile that may have been charming if he wasn't already such a widely accepted wanker. "I'll see you around."

Orla peered up at him, mildly quizzical, and gave an oblivious little wave as he wordlessly headed for the door. "Bye, Buster."

The door slammed shut behind him.

"Dick", Erin mumbled, quiet enough for only her fellow Derry Girls to hear.

In spite of his admittedly crappy mental and physical state, James found himself nodding vaguely in agreement.

"Michelle certainly knows how to pick them anyway."

Orla shrugged, turning her attention to her cutlery. She was clearly more interested in her spoon's suitability for a career in catapulting than their friend's love life.

"Ach, I think he's a character!"

Suddenly, Michelle appeared at her bedroom door. She glanced around the kitchen, nodding to her friends and cousin.

"Aye, and he's a character who I've given the ol' heave-ho to..."

Erin and James perked up, visibly surprised.

"So the convicted criminal thing finally started to bother ya, eh Michelle?", Erin asked with a hint of sarcasm. "Clare'll be proud."

Michelle smirked in return, pottering around the kitchen in pursuit of something edible. Naturally, she made as much noise as was physically possible, which did absolutely nothing for the newly returned ringing in James's ears.

"Naah", Michelle replied with a dismissive smile, one that didn't quite seem entirely genuine. "To be honest, the protestant thing bothered me more..."

Erin rolled her eyes. "Course it did."

James glanced up at his cousin, throbbing forehead cradled between his hands for the second time that morning.

Under any other circumstances, he may have called Michelle's bluff about the whole 'dumping her boyfriend over being a protestant' thing but since he felt that his brain may turn to total mush at any moment, James supposed that desperate times called for desperate measures.

"Do you really have to make _that_ much noise?"

Michelle snorted in amusement, taking the opportunity to use one of their saucepans as a gong.

"Feelin' a bit under the weather there, are we Dicko?", she asked, seeming to be trying just a little too hard to be her usual brash self. For now, no one was any the wiser. "Feckin' lightweight..."

James felt the sound reverberate in his ears, momentarily comforted by the sympathetic look Erin's threw him over her shoulder.

"How on earth are you not hungover?", he asked, wincing as Michelle held up the saucepan once more in a threatening manner.

No matter how much James had drank...his cousin had surely polished off double. Shouldn't she be the one completely keeled over?

Michelle grinned, feigning insult. "I'll have you know that I'm perfectly somber."

Rolling his eyes, James smirked.

"Come off it, Michelle! You haven't been perfectly somber since 1993!"

Erin let out a snort of laughter.

James tried to ignore how the sound offered him the smallest (albeit momentary) slice of clarity, causing something strange (but not entirely unfamiliar) to stir in the pit of his stomach. 

Frustrated with himself, he pushed the thought aside and returned his attention back to Michelle. 

She glared in response, tossing a wet dish cloth forcefully in the direction of her _darling_ cousin's head. In Michelle's opinion, her and James's familial banter was a one way street, one where where she gave and he took...no questions asked!

"Wind yer neck in, James."

...

_We're only young and naive still_   
_We require certain skills_   
_The mood it changes like the wind_   
_Hard to control when it begins_

_~The Naked and Famous, Young Blood._

...


	2. Chapter 2

_London 2001_

"For fuck's sake!", Michelle growled. "He was a hot bouncer! A hot bouncer, I'm tellin' ya!"

Clare, Erin and James continued to stare blankly at her, faces flushed red from the mini-feckin'-marathon they'd just ran to get themselves back to the apartment in one piece.

"Wasn't he a total ride, Orla?"

Maybe the group's resident cloud-cuckoo-lander wasn't exactly the best person to seek support from under the circumstances, but Michelle wasn't spoilt for choice.

"Ridin'!", Orla hummed to herself, tasting the word several times over like it was some totally foreign and unimaginable concept. "A bit weird, isn't it? Like stickin' yer finger up someone else's nose."

Michelle rolled her eyes, not even bothering to piece together how Orla had come to such a conclusion. She rounded on the others once again, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Well, what else did yous expect me to do?"

Erin huffed, wobbling like a baby deer towards the couch—anything to take the pressure off her monstrously high heeled shoes. "Maybe tellin' him the powdered laxatives in your handbag were Semtex wasn't exactly yer brightest idea, eh Michelle?", she sniffed, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"It was a joke!"

Clare, as per usual, looked seconds away from a cack attack of epic proportions.

Although, who could blame her after the night they'd just had—legging it out of a nightclub and down the street, anything to get away from that huge and frankly terrifying looking bouncer who Michelle had needlessly provoked. It was the whole fucking hullabaloo with Fionnula all over again times ten!

"People over here have a different sense of humor, Michelle!", Clare hissed. "You can't go 'round London jokin' about carryin' explosives in yer bag!"

"To be fair", James chipped in. "I'm quite certain that you can't do that anywhere."

Michelle only scoffed in response, waving a dismissive hand in her cousin's direction.

"Wipe yer eyes, Girls", she replied cockily. "It's a new millennium. Our lot are more likely to be associated with...I dunno, Dustin the Turkey or some shite these days."

Erin flopped theatrically down on the couch, sighing as she looked up at Michelle.

"At least you didn't go gettin' yourself arrested or anything", she admitted after a moment, kicking off her shoes.

As per usual, Erin was the first to accept Michelle's behaviour, especially if said behaviour was so easily explained by the presence of a fit (albeit scary looking) lad!

"Imagine what our mammies would've said!"

Michelle grinned smugly, glad to have dodged that particular bullet. The collective wraths of Mary Quinn, Deirdre Mallon and Geraldine Devlin were not something she fancied being on the receiving end of any time soon.

"Aye, there you go. Let's look on the bright side."

Clare strode across the room, clearly unhappy with the resolution they were heading towards. "How's there a bright side to you almost gettin' us arrested?", she sqwaked, eyeing Michelle angrily. "You've definitely _definitely_ spent too much time with that Hughes fella."

Michelle's face fell somewhat at the mention of Buster.

That prick had left her with a bigger mess than she was ready to admit to right now, not even to her four best mates. ( _Yes, that included her cousin too...so sue her!_ ) Michelle glanced around, making sure the others hadn't noticed her change in demeanour.

Erin had moved on to loudly wallowing in her feet's misery, Orla was in the midst of cracking open a box of Cheerios and James was busy putting on the kettle.

They'd clearly missed the split second change in her, _thank holy fuck_!

She hitched on an almost overly enthusiastic grin.

"Don't just look at me when we're talkin' bad choices", Michelle lorded, clawing her way back to her usual mask of bravado and piss pulling. "Look at Lucy. Ya know yer wan who works with me down at the pub? Asked me if James was goin' out with someone. Always knew there was somethin' seriously wrong with that doll."

Erin head shot up in response, whirling around to face James who'd scarcely registered Michelle's comment in the first place. "He can't go out with Lucy!", she declared, on high alert at the drop of a hat.

Michelle snorted in amusement.

Clare frowned in confusion, "Why not? What's wrong with her?"

Fumbling and red faced, Erin was a deer caught in the headlights trying to come up with even a halfway decent excuse. "She's much too-too...too English!"

Seated on the kitchen counter, James supposed it was time to chip in—the conversation did, after all, quite obviously concern him.

"Surely you haven't forgotten that I'm English?", James asked, almost teasingly.

Erin huffed smugly. "Yeah, but you're on the more tolerable end of the spectrum."

"There's a spectrum?"

"Of course, James! Keep up, will ya!"

Michelle rolled her eyes at the whole carry on. She'd never quite understood the downright fucking bizarre dynamic between James and Erin...but in all honesty, she had more pressing things to be doing than trying make sense of either of them.

"Ach, they're some dopes. Y'know that?"

Clare shrugged. "Give 'em peace, Michelle. They'll figure it out in their own time."

Smirking knowingly, Michelle realised that it was as good a time as any to let Clare in on a little something she'd spotted. Namely, that she'd copped onto Clare's tiptoe-ing back into the flat early in the morning before the rest of the gang was up and about. 

"Is that what you're doin' as well, eh?"

Panic immediately dawning on her face, Clare gulped nervously—looking almost comically like a goldfish. "What?"

"Are you figurin' it all out too, Clare?"

Clare shifted awkwardly, for the first time realising how much she wanted Michelle's approval and support despite their obvious personality clashes.

"Aye, I suppose that's what I'm doin' as well."

Michelle snorted, bumping her shoulder against Clare's...a silent show of solidarity. She tried to ignore the awkward twinge in her gut at the thought of Clare with a full time girlfriend. After all, it wasn't really something that should be concerning her at all!

Together, Michelle and Clare returned their gaze to their friends, two of whom seemed to be stuck in the middle of some insane blend of bickering and flirting and the third who was rediscovering the glorious wonders of breakfast foods.

"Ah well, I s'ppose that makes five of us."

...

_The bittersweet between my teeth_   
_Trying to find the in-betweens_   
_Fall back in love eventually_   
_Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah_

_~The Naked and Famous, Young Blood._

...

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if you would like to read more :)


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